


Lines

by BeesKnees



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, M/M, Plot What Plot, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesKnees/pseuds/BeesKnees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor wants Loki wearing nothing but his helmet. Written for norsekink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines

The lines are practically a part of Loki's body. The golden sheen of them, the slight arch – they make Loki tower. They call attention and make him the same height as Thor. And that's simply something Thor cannot ignore.

  
He was surprised as anybody when Loki chose such a symbol. His demeanor has always detracted attention, as if he preferred his actions to speak for him.

  
As it is, they sit through dinner and it all is Thor can do not to stare. He imagines his fingers running over the metal. He imagines it warming to his touch – just as his brother always does. There's always a hint of tentativeness at first, but then Loki will catch on; Loki will pull ahead, often taking charge.

  
He imagines wrapping his fingers around the top of Loki's helmet, wielding it as if he would Mjolnir.

  
He is absorbed by such thoughts all throughout their meal. He hears nothing of what his father nor Sif says to him. He can look only to his brother, who spares him a single glance. He can tell by the slightest curve of Loki's mouth that Loki understands what he has done.

  
Those horns are like his brother's smile. The curve is barely there at first notice. But then it is all consuming, so sharp that it becomes dangerous.

  
Thor feels the fool. He barely pulls himself from the table. He leaves in half a daze.

  
And somehow, when he enters his rooms, Loki is already there. How he has pulled such a trick, Thor does not care. He also knows that he will probably never understand it in any case.

  
And he is far too preoccupied to worry himself with such thoughts. His brother is upon his bed, clad in just that helmet and swathed in the dark green fabric of his cloak. And nothing else. His skin gleams in the low light of the room – the same sheen reflected in the deviousness of his gaze and in the gold of his helmet.

  
Thor moves forward before he can stop himself. He wraps his fingers about the helmet, just as he had imagined, and pulls his brother's head back. The long line of his throat becomes elongated and Thor leans in to plunder his mouth. He kisses roughly, his fingers tightening so that his knuckles become white. He bites at Loki's lips, thrusts his tongue into his brother's mouth. He feels Loki give way beneath him, but he does not give back, not just yet.

  
Thor moves his other hand, letting his broad fingers travel down the curve of Loki's throat, following the sharp line of his collar bone to meander down his side. His hand plays against the fabric of the cape.

  
Loki finally pushes up against him; at the same time, Thor pulls. He brings Loki's form up against his own, not caring that his brother must be uncomfortable. His fingers dig into the flesh of Loki's hip as he thrusts his own down in between his brother's legs.

  
Loki's fingers twine upward, finding purchase in his hair. They grip too tightly, leveling Thor's head back a bit. Thor loses control of the kiss and Loki sinks his teeth into Thor's lower lip, biting until the skin breaks. He sucks at the blood before releasing Thor's mouth. He smiles up at Thor.

  
“See something you like, brother?” Loki asks, his words curling into the air between them.

  
“This design,” Thor manages to answer, his voice low and gruff. “Is not practical at all.” As if to prove his point, he pulls back on the helmet. Loki's head tilts along with it, so that he stares at the wall behind Thor's bed. Thor applies his mouth to Loki's exposed neck, scraping his teeth along his Adam's apple, letting the stubble of his beard meander along Loki's pale skin.

  
“Is it not?” Loki asks with something of a laugh. His fingers wander down along Thor's back, digging into muscles at random. Part of his cloak has curled along Thor's hip.

  
And Loki may play all the games he wishes, but he is bare before Thor this evening. Thor can feel the jut of his cock already pressed against his thigh.

  
He shifts, keeping one hand firmly about Loki's helmet so that his brother cannot move overly much. The other, he wraps tightly around Loki's cock. He runs his thumb along the bottom of it first, enjoying the way that his brother rolls his hips upward with the action, obviously trying to gain more friction. He can hear the way that Loki draws in a too-tight breath, obviously trying to fight the inclination to moan.

  
Thor intends to keep Loki to himself this evening; he intends to keep him in his bed, touching him as much as he wishes. And there is plenty of time for that. But in this moment, Thor has no patience. It has never been his forte and he begins to stroke Loki roughly – too roughly and he knows his brother would chastise him if he could.

  
But the words do not fill Loki's mouth and are not delivered off the sharp edge of his tongue. Loki's chest rises and falls rapidly and his hips begin to move out in short thrusts as he tries in vain to meet the pace Thor has set.

  
Thor gazes down upon him, obviously enamored. He wishes to run his hands along the stark lines of Loki's sides, to meander along the creases of his hips. But he dares not let go of the helmet. He can feel the way that it moves just slightly with each of Loki's motions. A dark lock has pushed out from underneath the front, sticking to Loki's forehead.

  
Thor grips all the more tighter and is surprised when he sees that Loki is studying him in turn.

  
Thor does not shy away from his gaze and, as he strokes upward once more, Loki lets out a startled moan. The sound is nearly lost into the shadows of Thor's room, but seconds later Loki is coming, spilling himself across Thor's hand in long streaks.

  
Thor drags him through the orgasm, touching him long after such a thing can be comfortable. Something similar to a whine ricochets in the back of Loki's throat before he goes nearly boneless against Thor's bed, his limbs sprawled across the covers.

  
“I suppose this will do then,” Thor says finally, letting his fingers drag across one of the tips of Loki's helmet before finally straying away. When he had first seen the helmet, he thought it would prove quite the distraction to wear into battle. Now, he knows he is right.


End file.
